“Mr. Vantine had dinner at home, sir,” he said.  “It was served, I think, at seven o’clock.  He must have finished a little after seven-thirty.  I didn’t see him, for I was straightening things around up in his room and putting his clothes away.  But he told Rogers—­”

“Never mind what he told Rogers,” broke in Grady.  “Just tell us what you know.”

“Very well, sir,” said Parks, submissively.  “I had a lot of work to do—­we just got back from Europe yesterday, you know—­and I kept on, putting things in their places and straightening around, and it must have been half-past eight when I heard Rogers yelling for me.  I thought the house was on fire, and I come down in a hurry.  Rogers was standing out there in the hall, looking like he’d seen a ghost.  He kind of gasped and pointed to this room, and I looked in and saw Mr. Vantine laying there—­”

His voice choked at the words, but he managed to go on, after a moment.

“Then I telephoned for Mr. Lester,” he added, “and that’s all I know.”

“Very well,” said Grady.  “That’s all for the present.  Send Rogers in.”

Rogers’s face, as he entered the room, gave me a kind of shock, for it was that of a man on the verge of hysteria.  He was a man of about fifty, with iron-grey hair, and a smooth-shaven face, ordinarily ruddy with health.  But now his face was livid, his cheeks lined and shrunken, his eyes blood-shot and staring.  He reeled rather than walked into the room, one hand clutching at his throat, as though he were choking.

“Get him a chair,” said Grady, and Simmonds brought one forward and remained standing beside it.  “Now, my man,” Grady continued, “you’ll have to brace up.  What’s the matter with you, anyhow?  Didn’t you ever see a dead man before?”

“It ain’t that,” gasped Rogers.  “It ain’t that—­though I never saw a murdered man before.”

“What?” demanded Grady, sharply.  “Didn’t you see that fellow this afternoon?”

“That was different,” Rogers moaned.  “I didn’t know him.  Besides, I thought he’d killed himself.  We all thought so.”

“And you don’t think Vantine did?”

“I know he didn’t,” and Rogers’s voice rose to a shrill scream.  “It was that woman done it!  Damn her!  She done it!  I knowed she was up to some crooked work when I let her in!”

CHAPTER VI

THE WOMAN IN THE CASE

It was coming now; the secret, however sordid, however ugly, was to be unveiled.  I saw Grady’s face set in hard lines; I could hear the stir of interest with which the others leaned forward....

Grady took a flask from his pocket and opened it.

“Take a drink of this,” he said, and placed it in Rogers’s hand.

I could hear the mouth of the flask clattering against his teeth, as he put it eagerly to his mouth and took three or four long swallows.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, more steadily, and handed the flask back to its owner.  A little colour crept into his face; but I fancied there was a new look in his eyes—­for, as the horror faded, fear took its place.